


Fast and Not So Furious

by LiviJoyann



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers Family, Car Accidents, Car Chases, Domestic Avengers, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Good Peter, Guilt, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, Near Death Experiences, Parent Tony Stark, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Realistic, Rescue, Team as Family, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-24 23:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16649503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiviJoyann/pseuds/LiviJoyann
Summary: By some miracle, Peter Parker gets Mr. Stark to allow him to take out his new car but is mortified when he gets in a terrible wreck. Tony's reaction isn't quite what he thought it would be though.





	1. Chapter 1

Peter took a deep breath and anxiously tapped his fingers on the side of his leg like he was revving up to confront some big boss character like Darth Vader… or maybe the Godfather was more suiting. He might as well be. Mr. Stark would love to be compared to Don Corleone, Peter knew it. Maybe it would butter him up before Peter hit him with the favor he had to ask.

Who was he kidding. Why was Peter even trying this?

Before he could decide whether or not he wanted to pretend that he had never been at the Avengers Compound to begin with, the kitchen doors swung open and a whole host of Avengers spilled out. Peter was caught like a deer in headlights.

"Hey! We missed you out there." Clint called out first.

"Yeah, let me tell you. The company was  _dull_." Rhodey joked. Peter smiled as Natasha scoffed.

"You're a tough crowd, Rhodes."

They all walked past him, sometimes giving him a pat on the shoulder or in Sam's case, a fist bump. When the threshold cleared, Peter entered the glossy, modern kitchen. Tony, Cap and Pepper were still in there. Somehow, he felt like he was intruding.

"I thought you had too much decathlon stuff to come on the mission." Tony said upon seeing Peter. He looked tired. They all did. Even if he didn't already know it, Peter would easily be able to decode that they had just returned from some kind of superhero rendezvous.

"Yeah, I'm about to head to practice."

"So, you thought you'd make a "quick" stop  _2 hours_  upstate?"

"Uhhh-I have a favor to ask." Nervously slurring his "uh" and "I" together into one word. Tony narrowed his eyes.

"Of course, you do. Anyone ever stop by just to say hey? No one comes to Tony to ask how Tony's doing. How's your day, Mr. Stark? How's the expo going? Any new armor? How was your trip to Prague?"

"You've never been to Prague!" Peter cut in.

"No, but if I had, you probably wouldn't ask me about it."

Cap rolled his eyes and chuckled from where he snacked on apple slices at the counter. He and Pepper stayed clear of the conversation. It was always best to do that when Tony was in a particular sarcastic or sassy mood. Peter was starting to learn how to send it right back at him though.

"How's your hangover, Mr. Stark?" Peter demanded, playing along. Unable to resist the slight up-turn of the corner of his lips. Steve and Pepper didn't even try to hide their full-out laughs, but Stark was less enthused. His cocky smirk was wiped off his face and he looked at Peter disapprovingly which just ensured Pete that he had won this one.

The current running joke among the Avengers was how Stark got so hammered last night at Thor's 1,523rd birthday party that he woke up at a bus station early this morning. He was twelve miles from the compound with no recollection of how on Earth he had gotten there. Peter only heard about it through the group chat (because yes, there's an Avengers group chat and Peter is proudly part of it), but it was just as funny reading it from his room in Queens.

"Alright, what the hell do you want? And killer, by the way. Thanks for asking." Tony answered flatly.

Shoot. Now was the hard part.

"I need to borrow a car."

"And what's wrong with the one I just gave you?"

"Nothing, no… Millie's great."

Millie was short for Millennium Falcon. Peter originally wanted to nickname the car just "Falcon", but he realized it would cause too much confusion with Sam's made-up, superhero name.

"It's just… It needs to be- I'd appreciate-"

"Spit it out, kid."

"The R8."

Peter could see Pepper's eyes go wide from where she sat and that didn't help his confidence. Both her and Cap were invested in the conversation now. They were probably wondering how the Hell this sixteen-year-old kid had the dice to make such a request.

"Uh…" Stark started, probably about to cut Peter down to size, but he interrupted.

"See, what happened was Flash was running his mouth off in class about how his Dad got this new Mustang and this really nice kid Noah was like 'Oh that's really cool. My grandpa used to collect Mustangs' and then he started talking about some of the models and whatever and Flash didn't like the attention turning to Noah, so he started cutting him down saying 'Those all suck. I wouldn't even call that a collector' and I felt bad because Noah's grandpa died only like a month ago, so I was like 'shove off, Flash' and he was like 'Shut up, Parker. You couldn't even breath the air around a Mustang GT… whatever it was' and Ned was like, being Ned you know, and said 'Actually Tony Stark lets Peter take out his cars all the time' and I was about to be like 'No, stop Ned. Shut up.' But everyone was like 'woah, what kinds, can we go on road trips' and Flash was like 'Wow, you know, I'd  _love_ to see one in action. Bring one to practice tonight, Peter' and I tried to be like 'no I can't' but then this kid Avery, who's kind of obsessed with you by the way. It's a little weird. He was like 'I read that Tony Stark got the 2018 Audi R8 before it was even released and Flash was like 'Oh perfect, bring that one' and-"

"This the kid whose car you wrecked on Homecoming night?" Tony thankfully cut into Peter's breathless rambling. Peter shuffled his feet and nodded. "Mm.", was all Stark mumbled in return.

It was quiet for a bit, save for the sound of Pepper typing on her laptop. Steve finally broke the silence by tapping the counter as if he was tapping out of the conversation. He got up, put his plate in the dishwasher, and passed by Tony. He gave Mr. Stark a firm pat on the shoulder as if to say, "Good Luck with this one" and nodded at Peter in ways of goodbye before leaving the kitchen.

Peter wished Tony would just tell him 'no' and get it over with.

~ X ~

"W- What?" Peter asked Tony in disbelief. Tony sat back on the stool next to the kitchen bay counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I said, back by 10 PM tops. Straight to practice and back. And no one else is allowed to even  _touch_ it. Aaaand you have to make time to come into the compound so I can walk you through your new suit upgrades- properly this time."

"I-"

" _And_ I call the shots on when to pull you off a mission if I think things are getting too hairy. From now on, If I say you're done for the day, that means you're  _done_. No arguments. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah. Of course." Peter said, a little breathlessly. Tony sighed and ran his hand over his face tiredly. He hoped he wouldn't regret this. He'd never admit it, but he was kind of a sucker for making the kid happy. That wasn't really why he was agreeing to this arrangement though. Peter had confided in Tony about this little-piece-of-shit Flash kid before, only after Tony pried it out of him. For some reason, the boy was set on making Pete's life a living Hell, or at least he tried his best. Peter was always pretty good at being mature and tuning it out, but it still made Stark's blood boil.

"Alright, come on." He beckoned to the frozen, beaming teenager in the middle of the compound kitchen. "I'll be right back." He told Pepper who had that small smile of admiration on her face that he recognized instantly. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Whenever he did something nice for the kid, she just ate it up.

Look at him, making  _two_ people happy campers. What a guy.

Tony lead Peter down to the garage.

"Oh," Stark added. ", and Mustangs suck."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony realizes that Peter is in danger a little too late. While driving to decathlon practice, Peter is thrown into unexpected chaos.

Tony checked his phone for the millionth time since they had sat down to an early dinner. He was just waiting for a call, or even a text like…

 

**I’m SO sorry, Mr. Stark.**

**I have some bad news…**

**Please don’t be mad.**

…Something along those lines. Nothing, though. Radio silence.

 

“Hey, where are you, man?” Rhodey murmured in a low voice beside him so that only Tony could hear.

 

“I’m just waiting to hear that my brand-new car is at the bottom of a lake somewhere.” Stark said bitterly, setting his phone down on the restaurant table and running his hands through his hair. Ravenous from all the work they had done that day, most of the Avengers went out to a burger joint down the street to relax a bit. Tony was doing everything _but_ that at the moment.

 

“If you’re so stressed about it, why’d you let him take it?”

 

Tony was about to explain a little about Peter’s bully, but a buzzing noise interrupted him. Tony jumped and grabbed his phone, answering before he even knew who it was.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Tony-“

 

It was Happy. Tony let go of the rigid tension he held in his posture.

 

“Oh. Hey, Hap.“

 

“Tony, Pepper was attacked.”

 

Now Stark was wishing it was Peter calling to say the car was totaled.

 

“What!?”

 

“Those guys you took on today- The Sokovian terrorists-“

 

“Well, they weren’t exactly-“

 

“Tony!”

 

“Right, well is she okay? Come on Happy, details. You’re killin’ me here.”

 

“I- You-“ Happy stumbled frustratingly. “She’s fine, yeah. I was able to get us back to the compound.”

 

Tony sighed a breath of relief and melted into his chair.

 

“Is she there? Can I talk to her?”

 

“She’s taking a shower. She’s pretty shaken.”

 

“I don’t understand. We neutralized the Kovas.”

 

The “Kovas” were a small group of vengeful Sokovian survivors. Their goal was to wipe out anyone who was even remotely part of the Sokovia-Ultron fiasco. Agents and leading officers on duty during the battle started disappearing, and it wasn’t until Wanda had insisted they looked into it until they realized that it was an organized group killing one by one.

 

Their main target: Tony Stark. Of course. Because wasn’t it always? He guessed they were justified this time though. Not only was he responsible for Ultron, but his weapons fueled the war that had raged in Sokovia for years in the first place.

 

“Apparently not. They’re pissed now, Tony. They’re comin’ after you now.”

 

Tony rubbed his eyes tiredly. This shit was never-ending, and it was always the same. They’ll go after everyone Stark loves first, and then kill him after and blah, blah, blah… This is why Tony was so supportive of Peter keeping his identity a secret.

 

“Don’t let her leave that compound. I’ll be there soon.”

 

Tony grabbed his keys and stood, attracting questioning eyes from his teammates.

 

“Wait, Tony he’s not done. He’s after everyone you care about.”

 

“Well in case you haven’t noticed by now, Hap, I don’t have a laundry list of friends and family _to_ care about, so-“

 

Tony slowed when he noticed the accusatory stares he was getting from around the table.

 

“That aren’t already here!” He defended, rolling his eyes. “Jesus.”

 

“Tony. He knows who Peter is.”

 

Tony’s throat closed up and the rest of his muscles froze.

 

“How do you know?” He was able to choke out.   

 

“Down came the rain and washed the spider out.” Happy said in a terrible Sokovian accent, no doubt imitating what the attackers voiced.

 

“Damnit.” Stark muttered.

 

“Stark, what’s wrong?” Steve’s voice asked from across the table. Tony’s heart pounded in his ears and his hand clenched around his phone as his mind raced into the formation of a plan.

 

What wasn’t wrong?

 

~ X ~

 

“Don’t touch that! Or that. Don’t- Ned. Ned.”

 

“What am I supposed to do, just like, levitate?”

 

“Yes. Please.”

 

“You’re so paranoid.”

 

Peter sighed. Ned _knew_ why he was being so strict about everything.

 

“If I so much as niche this car, Mr. Stark will tear out my organs with an iron hand.”

 

“Cool.” Ned voiced in awe, nodding slowly as if it would be the greatest of honors.

 

“No, not cool.”

 

“So… how’d you get him to agree to this anyway?”

 

“I don’t think he was too happy when I refused to let him do anything about Flash. I guess in his mind, this was like the next best thing.” Peter kind of realized this as the words were coming out. When he had first reluctantly told Mr. Stark a little bit about what an ass Flash was, Tony was clearly bothered. He wanted to come into school and quote, “scare the shit out of the little beast”, but Peter told him that he could handle it. He appreciated that Tony cared though. Peter admitted, he wasn’t expecting quite a strong response.

 

“He’s kind of like your Dad.” Ned said plainly from the passenger seat. The comment caught Peter off guard, but he didn’t show it since he speant every ounce of focus he had on driving as safely as he could down the freeway. “I mean- no one could ever replace your real Dad, of course!” Ned hurriedly corrected. “But… he’s _like_ your Dad.”

 

“He’s not like my Dad.” Peter said, unable to help smiling in disbelief at the weird statement.

 

“He kinda is.” Ned disagreed casually. “I wish Iron Man was my Dad. That’d be so cool.”

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter caught Ned’s face twist in a bitter expression before saying, “Better than _Joe_.”

 

_BAM._

The exclamation of metal grinding into metal rang in Peter’s head. Time stopped and suddenly it was like he was having an out of body experience. Luckily his reflexes kicked in and his body reacted, even if his brain froze and remained that single moment when he first heard the impact.

 

Peter’s first thought was that it was the car, his car. Well, not _his_ car, but worse: Tony’s car. Thousands of images of the horrific possibilities flashed in his mind- Did the car behind him slam into the back bumper? Did someone nearby try to change lanes and not see him? Was he focusing _too_ hard on the road and not see something. _Was this his fault!?_

 

In those few split seconds, Peter didn’t allow himself to think reasonably. However, he began to realize that if it was the R8, then he definitely would’ve felt the impact. There was nothing though, and he was sure that he’d _definitely_ feel something with the magnitude of that sound.

 

“Peter!” Ned yelled in warning, and Peter finally put together what had happened.

 

The car in front of him had collided nearly head-on with another. The strange thing was, this other car was totally going the wrong way, flying straight through incoming traffic. Wow. If it hadn’t slammed into the Honda in front of them, it could’ve just as easily hit them.

 

Peter didn’t have much time to think about that though. The crash right ahead of them caused the Honda to ricochet backwards from the force of what looked to be a Mustang. It of course made no sense, but by default, Peter’s mind said ‘ _Flash_ ’.

 

The crash was still in full motion, a dance of metal, steel, rubber, and whatever else was currently being meshed into a tragic wreckage- and Peter was headed straight for it. With no time to stop and debris flying everywhere, not to mention cars still in the lane to his left, Pete had to make the quick decision to yank the steering wheel and veer them off-road to the left. He said a silent prayer of thanks that there were no traffic barriers.

 

“Peter Peter Peter!” Ned was yelling in fear as they felt the uneven grassy terrain jostle the car. They whirred past the accident where cars that were passing by ran over pieces of rubble, sometimes sending them flying back into the air. As Peter slammed down the brakes to stop their dash off-road, it was too late before he realized a large chunk of the Honda’s remains zipped towards them. In a horrifying fraction of a second, there was the sound of tap- almost as if someone knocked on the car. The debris flew past their faces and over the hood. Peter froze in what was now stillness, his eyes wide and his jaw clenched.

 

 _Shit_.

 

“Did- did it-“

 

Peter leaned forward in his seat, his eyes scanning the black glossiness that was the hood of the car. It was a perfectly pristine sea of inky darkness… except for one imperfection. There was the _tiniest_ divot on the driver’s side of the hood- the subtlest difference in the reflection of the sunlight made it noticeable from where they sat. Peter felt his throat close up in fear. The boys didn’t say a word for a good while.

 

“…I need to get out of the country.” Peter finally choked out. Ned slowly turned to him with a concerned gaze, but Peter remained fixated on that tiny little niche. “Have- Have you ever been to Prague?”

 

“Maybe he won’t notice. It’s so small.” Ned tried to assure his friend, doubt tinging his voice.

 

“Of course, he’s going to notice! This is like his child! Oh my God… Oh my God, I’m going to be murdered by Iron Man…”

 

“It’s just a little ding-“

 

“A _ding_?”

 

“Yeah-“

 

“He’ll notice a _ding,_ Ned!”

 

Amidst their panicked arguing, they didn’t even pay attention to the fact that the Mustang was pulling itself back, detaching from the crumpled Honda. It rerouted and drove around the wreckage, heading towards the grassy area where Peter and Ned still disputed “the ding”. One would’ve thought that Peter’s spider-senses would’ve told him that something was amiss, but he was so captivated in panic about the car that he felt nothing but frenzy.

 

“I’m telling you-“

 

“Ned, I can’t go back. I have to leave. New York, at least… I have to leave New York…“

 

“You don’t think he’ll find you? He’s Iron Man! Peter, listen. It’s not that bad, and it’s not even your fault. Like I said-“

 

_BAM!_

This time it was different. This time, Peter not only heard the impact but he _felt_ it. The entire car jolted from the shock they received from the driver’s side. The impact landed right in front of where Peter sat, sending the car spinning about 180 degrees around to the right. The boys screamed and Peter gripped onto the wheel as if he had any control. When the car stilled again, Peter could hear the pounding of his heart in his head along with Ned’s hyperventilating gasps for air.

 

They sat there, definitively frozen in horror with eyes the size of the moon. There was a taunting dent and lacerations in the aluminum. It looked like someone gripped onto the driver’s side of the front of the car and crumpled it like a candy wrapper.

 

“…I don’t think he’ll notice the ding.” Ned breathed.

 

Peter didn’t have respond. The hairs on his arm spiked and this time, he actually listened to his senses. This was far from over.

 

Jumping into action without a second-thought, Peter switched gears and floored it, just as the Mustang rammed their back bumper. Peter gassed it towards the road again, but the problem was that they had spun around to be facing against traffic. There wasn’t time or room to spin another 180, so they busted onto the freeway going the wrong way.

 

Peter dodged cars passing by that honked and veered around him, but the only thing he currently cared about was getting the hell away from that Mustang that was now close on their tail.

 

“What the hell is this guy’s problem!?” Ned screamed, craning his neck around to watch the car behind them.

 

Peter didn’t answer, somewhat because he was so engaged in not getting in another crash but mostly because he didn’t have one. It didn’t matter right now. He just needed to shake this asshole.

 

“Peter!” Ned shouted, but Peter already saw what Ned was trying to warn him about. They had been doing a pretty good job at dodging incoming cars in sparse traffic, but now a whole, dense mesh of traffic was headed their way. Peter’s eyes flickered to the other side of the free-way were people were driving the same way he was. There was a median separating the North and South-bound lanes, but a median was better than an onslaught of vehicles going 70 mph.

 

“SHIT!” Ned yelled as Peter tugged the wheel to the right, sending them sprawling over the median and into the south-bound lanes. The car was airborne for a moment before the tires hit the cement in a screech of protest. The car swerved a bit, but then continued its whirl down the freeway, this time in the right direction.

 

Peter had hoped that this move would’ve discouraged whoever was currently try to kill the boys, but he mimicked Peter, perhaps even more gracefully.

 

Pete’s body was rigidly stiff, his fingers gripping the wheel so tightly that they may as well have been welded there. His shoulders hurt with how much he was tensing up, but he wouldn’t even feel it until later. Peter’s face was devoid of any emotion. The only sign of stress was how tightly he was clenching his jaw, otherwise he didn’t even have the capacity to show fear in the moment.

 

One thing Peter _could_ reasonably conclude in midst of this out-of-nowhere car chase, was that it probably had nothing to do with his best friend that was freaking out in the seat next to him. He had to get Ned out of there.

 

“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!” Ned was screaming over and over again like a scratched CD that kept repeating the same lyric over and over again.

 

“Ned,” Peter shouted sternly over him. He reached behind him and felt for his backpack, fishing through it blindly with his eyes still on the road where he swerved around traffic at 100+ miles per hour. “, I’m sorry,” Peter continued to voice loudly over the whir of the engine. He felt what he was looking for. Peter attached his web shooter to his wrist. “, but this isn’t about you.”

 

With that, Peter shot a web to grasp Ned’s door handle and yanked the passenger door open. Before Ned could even react, Peter shot another web straight at Ned and then reached to shoot the other end out of the car at the top of a light post. With the blink of an eye, Ned was yanked out of the car. Peter glanced at the rearview mirror to see him dangle from the street light, thankfully out of traffic.

 

He was glad that his friend was out of immediate danger as the Mustang continued to pursue Peter, but now he was alone and had _no_ idea what was going on or what to do about it. He had only been driving for half-a-year for Christ’s sake.

 

Peter swerved around a minivan and into a stretch of the freeway that was devoid of cars for a while. He sped up to around 120 MPH, but the Mustang easily kept up and even gained on him. Without other obstacles to break up the Mustang’s path, it pushed forward and eventually managed to ram Peter’s back bumper again.

 

The rear of the Audi swerved and Peter tried his best to frantically maneuver to get back on a straight path, but getting hit at that speed sent the car out of whack. Another hit, and that was it- the car spun out of control.

 

It was moments like these that happened in slow motion in movies- The car would pinwheel across the road and colors would fly by the driver as if everything was as lethargic as floating underwater. The vehicle would go airborne and everything in the car would be suspended in midair as if gravity no longer existed. The whole wreck would expand for as long as a couple of minutes; slow, fluid, dramatic… lyrical, even.

 

Not here though. Not in real life.

 

Once the Audi reeled out of control, colors whirred by the windshield in unintelligible flashes of light. Within a second, the car hit something. Peter had no clue what. It tipped his world upside down, then right side up, then upside down until he didn’t know what direction was what. Vertigo gripped him just like he continued to grip the steering wheel for dear life- something that he might not have for long.

 

The one thing that Peter could in fact recognize was the ground rushing up at him- well, rather _down_ at him as the car slammed into the ground, upside-down. An earsplitting chorus of screaming steel against concrete paired with the jarring blow that the ground delivered. Everything happened so fast that Peter couldn’t even scream out, as physically punishing as the collision was.

 

Before his world was snatched away into darkness, Peter had one last miserable thought. Years of fighting neighborhood crime, to enhanced villains, to Thanos, to being a part of the Avengers and _this_ was how Spider-Man would die- driving to decathlon practice.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be 2 chapters, but I'm extending it to 3!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Tony deal with the situation and Peter realizes that Ned may have been right.

Lots of things were happening, but that's all Peter knew. He could hear commotion- distant and muffled by the car-shaped coffin on top of him. Sometimes he could force his eyelids open just enough to see sunlight peeking in through the crushed window. The light hurt though, and so did the sound, so Peter preferred to regress to his unconscious state, even if it left him vulnerable.

A new sound, much closer and not-so muffled ripped Peter from his comfortable darkness. It was coming from the carcass of the Audi- someone was trying to lift it. Who  _was_ this guy? What did Peter ever do to him? Why is he strong enough to lift a car?

With every ounce of strength that Pete had left, he groaned against the blinding pain of injuries he knew he had but couldn't quite place. Peter managed to wriggle his arm free of where it was bent unnaturally underneath the steering wheel. He reached his shaking arm towards where the car shook with effort and the silhouette of two booted feet appeared out the shattered window.

Peter glanced at his web shooter to make sure it was still intact just as the tangle of car parts above him was hoisted up. The sun was blinding and the sound of the highway was deafening. There was definitely some form of concussion going on. The most jarring part though was the actual movement itself. Some of the intense weight was lifted from Peter's body, but the seatbelt still fastened across his chest tugged at his sore body. He also couldn't help but moan as he felt something slide out of his leg- and yes, it was  _in_ his leg, whatever it was. If Peter focused on it, he could even feel a thick, wetness by his ankle. No doubt he was bleeding all over the place.

He couldn't focus on his injuries though, because he finally faced with his attacker- this unknown, villain. He was tall, he was built, he was holding up a car with one hand as if it was made of paper... It was... Captain America?

Peter blinked.

Yep, it was Steve Rogers.

Oh.

And with that moment of relief, Peter let his outstretched arm fall as inky blotches filled his vision.

"Peter, are you okay? Kid?" Steve asked, but Peter could only conjure up a groan in return.

"Does he live?" Asked a deep, Australian-like accent. Thor?

"Barely conscious," Steve answered. "Hold this."

The car lurched and Peter groaned in protest. He felt someone messing with the latch of his seatbelt. Whoever it was, he guessed Steve, yanked it clear off with a snap. Peter's body slumped further into the cold, cement ground. He tried to bring himself back into reality, but he was fighting through the thick haze.

"I gotchya," Rogers muttered, hooking his arms underneath Peter's own arms and slowly pulling him out from under the pulverized vehicle. Peter couldn't conceptualize much, but he knew that he felt sort of like a rag doll at that moment. He also recognized the familiar sound of repulsors in the distance, followed by crashes and explosion. No doubt, Tony was somewhere here raising Hell.

"Okay," Steve said, and a whoosh of air blew over Peter as the car was seeming dropped back to the ground with a deafening crash. Peter felt his back being supported by Cap's arm. Steve's other hand gently gripped Peter's jaw. He turned Peter's head a bit, probably to examine injuries. Peter took this time to really work on opening his eyes, no matter how much the sun stung.

"Steve..." he muttered, finally getting some basic motor skills back. The scene around him took form and some of the light dimmed- enough to make out Steve Rogers and Thor looming over him.

"Hey. Talk to me, Pete. What hurts the most?" Cap asked gently, helping Peter sit up on his own.

"Uh... I don't really know..."

He just knew that he couldn't stop shaking.

"The adrenaline is probably still pumping through your body. You'll start feeling it soon."

Peter didn't like the sound of that. He pushed himself away from Cap's grasp and stumbled into a wavering stand.

"Careful, Parker," Thor warned, grabbing Peter's arm to support the swaying teenager.

"We have medical teams on the way." Cap started saying, but Peter wasn't invested in their conversation at the moment. Right then, he was watching something much more captivating, and not necessarily in a good way.

It would be an understatement to say that Tony Stark was destroying this Mustang-guy. One blast after another was delivered straight at the already-destroyed car. Peter watched as "Iron Man" touched down next to the driver side door and yank it clear off its hinges. Tony tossed the door to the side like it was a frisbee. He ripped the guy from the car by the neck and slammed him against the side of his own car.

"Easy, Stark," Captain called out to warn him, disapprovingly. Tony tensed for a minute but didn't beat the living daylights out of the guy like Peter was sure he was going to do for a moment there. Instead, Tony gripped him tighter before tossing him aside just like he had done to the door. The guy's back hit a streetlight pole and he crumpled to the ground.

Peter shrunk at the sight. It would've been slightly scary to watch that on a normal day, sure. But now, in this situation, it was  _horrifying_. Why? Because Peter was sure that he himself was next.

Pete looked down at the flipped Audi, his stomach sinking at the sight of the rubble. Peter balled his hands up nervously at his sides and stepped behind Thor, obscuring his vision of Tony and vice versa. Thor glanced back.

"What are you doing?"

Peter didn't answer but peered around Thor's bulging arm to watch as Tony and the Iron Man suit cleared the Mustang wreck off of the street. Thor looked between Peter and Tony and then stepped further in front of Pete, hiding him for what few minutes of life he had left before Mr. Stark chucked him across the freeway just like Mustang-man. The fact that even Thor recognized the need to hide Peter wasn't all too comforting.

Sirens approached quickly and a few ambulances flooded the area with blue and red light. Cap and Thor help Peter limp towards the trucks as medics rushed out to poke and prod at him. He still didn't feel any intense pain, just a lot of numbness and shaking. He couldn't quite concentrate either. He heard the word, 'shock' being thrown around a lot but didn't care to dispute it. He did dispute their numerous requests to pack him up and take him to the hospital.

"No, that's okay..." he heard himself saying, but he was still a little dazed. Maybe he  _was_  in shock. Is this what shock felt like? His body felt... wrong, but there wasn't pain. His eyes couldn't focus on one thing for very long. His heart was still pounding loudly enough to drown out his surroundings. Most prominent of all, Peter couldn't stop repeating the crash his head from the moment that the back of the car spun out to the moment when it collided with the ground.

"... and I want everyone back at the compound to look into  _every_  lead we have on possible "Kovas" outliers. We should be done with this shit." Peter heard Mr. Stark's voice carry over all the rest. His suit was retracting back into its reactor origin. Shoot... he was probably coming to rip Peter a new one any minute now.

With the medics distracted with gathering supplies to wrap his leg and Steve and Thor taking away Mustang-Man, Peter slipped around an ambulance, obscuring himself from Tony's line of vision.

"Uh... Mr. Parker?" he heard one of the medics call out in confusion, no doubt wondering where he suddenly disappeared to. The only thing Peter was worried about was avoiding Mr. Stark at all costs. Speaking of which, he was headed near Peter now.

Limping to the other side of the ambulance, Peter once again evaded his searching eyes.

"Peter." Tony called out. He didn't shout it, but there was nothing warm and friendly about his tone. Peter sure as hell didn't answer. He didn't even risk to peak around the corner. He heard Tony walk forward, so he darted the best he could behind the second ambulance, ducking out of view. "Stop messing around, kid."

A hand enclosed around Peter's wrist and pulled him back from behind the ambulance. He grunted in pain from the sudden movement and stumbled to land face-to-face with a steely Tony Stark.

"I'm  _so_ sorry, Mr. Stark. I swear, I'll spend the rest of my life- and all of my afterlife too- to make-"

"What?" Tony's eyebrows pulled together, demanding in frustration as if he didn't actually know what Peter was talking about. Wait... did he?

"The car..." Peter said in a small voice. Mr. Stark rolled his eyes and shook his head as if it was the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. "Are you okay?" He pressed, completely ignoring Peter's guilt induced melt-down.

The question caught Peter off-guard.

"Um... Okay. I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" Mr. Stark asked, an eyebrow cocked. "Because it looks like Megladon and Godzilla fought over your leg there."

"Oh..." Peter said, glancing down.

 _Yeesh_. He thought. That  _did_ look bad.

"No, it actually-" Peter went to stand on his leg to show Mr. Stark how fully functional it was, but a blinding pain overtook him. Peter sucked in a sharp breath of air and felt his knees buckle underneath him. Tony was there immediately, one arm around Peter's back and the other gripping his upper arm for support.

"Why isn't he already on the way to the hospital?" Stark called out to the medics in general, glancing over at the team of people waiting with supplies to address Peter's wounds.

"He refuses to go." One particularly sassy EMF informed flatly.

"What- Pete-  _Normal_  people go to hospitals after getting injured, get me?" He demanded, looking Peter straight in the eye. Even with a discombobulated brain, Peter knew he was talking about hiding his superhero tendency to brush off injuries or rely on the compound infirmary. "Get in the damn ambulance," Tony instructed when Pete didn't answer.

Peter did  _not_ want to argue with Mr. Stark right now. Tony helped him climb up in the back of the truck and lie down on the stretcher. Tony climbed in too, taking a seat on the trunk of supplies against the ambulance wall.

"Uh, I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. We can't allow anyone to accompany Mr. Parker. You can meet him at-"

"It's fine." Tony shut down the medic, yet still, the guy nervously pressed on.

"I really do have to insist-"

"I said, it's fine." Stark said, looking the young medic straight in the eye. The poor kid nodded and a few other members of the EMF climbed into the back before shutting the doors and taking off down the freeway.

Peter took this time to try again, not liking the way Mr. Stark was bowing his head while pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.

"Uh, Mr. Stark... I swear, I'll do  _anything_. I mean, work, indentured servitude, blood sacrifice-"

"Will you shut your trap about the dumb car for one second?" Tony asked in a low voice, not entirely angry, but more tired.

"But-"

"Peter." Tony stopped him instantly. Tony looked up at him, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. " _No_ part of this is your fault... kay?"

Peter felt every single muscle he had been tensing up, relax. He wanted to exclaim ' _what!?'_ but didn't want to challenge Tony in his ruling. If he was taking mercy on Peter, he sure as hell wasn't about to argue.

"And even if it was," Mr. Stark shrugged, sitting back against the ambulance wall and tapping his fingers on his knee. "We take care of you first... Then  _maybe_ I'd kick your ass. Depending." He finished, casually. Peter chuckled but winced at the pain it caused him. Everything was starting to set in- the soreness of his ribs, the stinging cuts all over his arms, the sharp, stabbing feeling in his leg...

"This was my fight and it should have never reached you. I'm sorry it did."

 _Ohhh..._  Peter finally had a revelation. Mr. Stark wasn't acting irritated because of anything Peter did, it was what Tony did to Peter. He felt  _guilty_.

"Oh... It's okay." Peter mumbled, and he meant it. He figured the Avengers were kind of a package deal. If one was in trouble, they all were. Tony and he were probably even more connected in that way. If the roles were reversed and someone was trying to hurt Peter, they'd probably get around to hurting Mr. Stark too.

"Although..." Stark contemplated, cocking his head to the side as if he was thinking. "If you hadn't blown off the mission earlier today, maybe we would've actually gotten all of the Kovas instead of losing stragglers. Maybe I don't feel  _too_ bad."

Peter smirked and rolled his eyes. That sounded more like Mr. Stark.

"So they were that Sokovian group?"

"Uh-huh."

"How'd they know where I was? How'd they know  _who_  I was? I mean, I doubt they were coming after "Peter Parker"."

Tony sighed and rubbed his hands over his face.

"Well, first of all, driving around a 100,000 dollar sports car labeled 'Stark' isn't exactly inconspicuous. But as for  _who_ you are... Yeah, I don't know about that one. I'll figure it out while you lay low and give yourself time to heal up."

"Well, I don't need that per se. I think-"

"Hey, we made a deal remember? I'm calling you out, understand?"

Peter let his head fall back onto the stretcher in frustration. He  _hated_ being told that he couldn't be Spider-Man, even if it was just for a little while.

"Just for a bit, bud. Besides, the suit is not so effective if you're wearing a big-ass cast on your leg."

Almost as if on cue, a medic prodded Peter's leg. He shot up in the stretcher, retracting his shin and yelping.

"Mr. Parker, please. You have to stay still while we reset this."

"Why can't we wait until we get to the hospital? You know, where they can give me drugs?"

"If we don't do this now, it could lead to further complications and you didn't make it much better by walking on it." The sassy medic shot back. Peter shrunk back hesitantly and lied down once more, scooting his leg forward for the medics to "reset". His breathing had gotten a bit faster as he was now anticipating the pain to come. Peter gripped the edges of the stretcher and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't know exactly what they were doing, but he did know that he didn't want to see it.

"Ah!" Peter screamed as they pushed at his undoubtedly broken bones. His reflexes had him rocketing up again, but Mr. Stark was faster with a hand on his shoulder to hold him down. Peter's breathes were jagged now, broken up with groans of pain.

"Deep breaths." Mr. Stark told him, giving Peter's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Think about anything else."

"Like what?" Peter asked bitterly through clenched teeth.

"Uh, let's see... Teenage boy things."

"And what's that supposed to be?"

"I don't know! Sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll?"

Peter laughed even against the pain. Tony chuckled, keeping a firm hand holding Peter down as he continued to be poked and prodded.

"You and I were very different teenagers."

"I think maybe my age is showing." Mr. Stark mused. It was quiet for a while. Peter found himself thinking back to his conversation with Ned right before the chaos started. Maybe Ned was kind of right... a little... sort of... Peter would never go as far as calling Tony Stark his "father-figure" out loud, but he guessed there was an unspoken "thing" there.

"You know, for a second, I thought it might be Flash?" Peter spoke up, his voice wavering from the continued agony in his leg.

"Hm." Mr. Stark snickered. "Yeah, that'd be a little overkill. What did I tell you about Mustangs though?"

Peter smiled for a moment before it turned into a grimace. He couldn't wait to get patched up and have this night be over. His head was still a bit fuzzy and he was exhausted. He felt the ambulance turn into the hospital parkway, and it was then when Tony spoke up again...

"Peter... Where's Ned?"

~ X ~

Ned shivered as a gust of wind greeted him. The boy swung in the wind, the tendrils of the webbing not offering release anytime soon. Cars whizzed underneath him as the sun began to set down under the Earth, yet there Ned was... there he  _still_ was.

Ned dialed Peter's number again, holding his phone up to his ear and getting voicemail for the 14th time.

Ned hung up and sighed. He hoped his friend was okay. He also hoped he'd get down from there soon. Someone would  _have_ to get him eventually, right? Maybe he should just call the police.

Ned brought his phone up to his face once again, but his hand fumbled. The cell phone flipped over his fingers and despite his efforts to reach out with his other hand, it tumbled to the ground and was stampeded by cars.

Ned huffed and crossed his arms over his chest as another gust of wind sent him in a back and forth motion.

Typical.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of this one! Let me know what you think.

**Author's Note:**

> One more chapter to come!


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